Reoccupied
by EdenOzzy
Summary: After WW2, Estonia, like the rest of the Baltics, was reoccupied by the Soviet Union. Ivan and Eduard live together as close companions outside of Narva in the ESSR. Ivan has known only Kalev, and Eduard was a a spy for the Nazis. When the truth is revealed, how would life unfold for them? Rated M for blood, violence, and derogatory language. Based off "When the Doves Disappeared"
1. 1945 - The Snow Came Early

**A/N: This is my first little fanfiction in years. Mainly experimenting. I might add new "chapters" slowly. Just note that a lot of this will be out of order. This gives some backstory but takes place in October 1945. A majority of this story will take place just west of Narva, Estonia. I will be visiting Estonia in a month, so I might change the location to be more believable. Thank you for reading.**

**October 1945**

**Outside Narva, Estonia**

"**The Snow Came Early"**

* * *

His name is Kalev Ilves. That is whom the Russians know. They know a soldier of the Red Army, a soldier who was capture by the Forest Brothers in June 1941. He was kept alive because he is Estonian. They pitied the young man. He was simply drafted, and he could not escape it like many others. The Germans were not as merciful. Kalev was imprisoned and scheduled to be sent out of Estonia to a concentration camp, but he swayed a young woman to help him. He was freed, and he ran. He escaped to Russia. He was welcomed back, admired for his determination.

His name is Eduard von Bock. That is his given name. That is whom the Germans know. They know an Estonian who escaped Estonia to train in Finland. They know he returned and became Estonia as a Forest Brother, where he hid among the birch trees with other resistance fighters. They know he was a killer. His reaction to the bloody coats of the Red Army were enough. His hands now tremble when handed a rifle. He aided the Germans after their occupation of Estonia. He translated papers, called out Bolsheviks, and spied on given targets. He was loyal to the Third Reich. A model Estonian. They sent him past the Narva line to sully the Red Army's plans.

His name is Ivan Braginski. He knew Kalev, but he discovered Eduard in October 1945. They had found more documents in a Hitlerist's closet. Eduard is Kalev. Eduard was a spy. Ivan's comrade was stabbing his back for nearly three years. Or maybe two. Was Eduard a Hitlerist still? An Estonian nationalist?

* * *

"I just wanted to have a normal life," was his answer. A string of saliva and blood dripped from his mouth. "I am loyal to the Soviet Union now."

"You lied to me for three years, my friend. You are lying to me now. You are loyal to yourself," was Ivan's reply, anger written on his face, but there was a glint of sadness in his eyes.

Eduard stares down and spits out some blood. It splatters on the ground and hits the sides of his worn shoes. "What you say is not wrong, but what will you do? I did what I had to do. All for my own peace."

The Russian glares. "For peace? We went to Klooga. Is that what peace looks like? You heard the numbers in Poland, and-"

"And you heard the numbers in Siberia. But you shrug it off. I will too. It does not have to affect us. I am not a spy for them. I am loyal to the Soviet Union. I am loyal to _you,_" Eduard butts in. He does not ever interject, but his life depended on it this time. "Ivan, we never planted a thing this year. Come Spring, we could plant rye. As friends."

Ivan looks away and toward the window. The land is all white. The snow had come early this year. It hides the mud and dead leaves. Had it started during this confrontation? He stared in silence out the window for several minutes. "...Yes. We could. We should plant a pear tree as well."

* * *

The chimney would have to be cleaned soon. The fire that evening was strong. The paper kindled well when lit. They had a simple meal of cheese and buttered bread. It was all washed down with some kvass. It snowed heavily for the rest of the night.


	2. 1947 - He Likes to Sing

**A/N: This is centered on the twelfth Estonian Song Festival, or "Laulupidu" in 1947. I would like to note that in Estonia, choral groups were everywhere. I would compare it to getting a child involved in baseball or soccer/football. Little league teams, football clubs for adults, and same thing here. Estonians are very prideful of their culture, and this festival shows it. If you live in the EU, there is one occurring this summer. It is very beautiful. Even if you don't understand what they are singing, you can feel the raw emotion.**

* * *

"**He Likes to Sing"**

**April 1947**

**Outside Narva, ESSR**

Eduard finishes pressing his shirt with a coal iron. Ivan could tell he has been more excited about this meeting. The Estonian is planning to wear his nicest shirt. In addition, Eduard had been working on a new outfit for a while. It looks very traditional. Ivan is glad he is thrilled. But it is only a meetup with his choir.

"Say, Eduard," the name still seems so strange. Ivan could not help but wince this time. It still hurts sometimes. "If you are just going to practice, why do you feel the need to wear that shirt? If you get it messy, our superiors will be upset with seeing a stain on it. Just because we live in a farmhouse, it doesn't mean we should get mud everywhere."

The only reply is a faint chuckle. Eduard is not very expressive. It is a very common trait among Estonians, Ivan has noted. Quiet and introverted. "This is not an ordinary meeting. My group will be traveling to Tallinn in June." He chimes out.

This is news to the Russian's ears. Were they given the honor of singing to visiting Russian officials? No, he would have heard of that. "To Tallinn? On what grounds? Do we have the traveling permits for this?"

"Of course! And it is for Laulupidu."

"Excuse me?"

"Ah, your Estonian still needs work. It is a Song Festival. One of the grandest on this continent!" Eduard exclaims, a broad smile on his face. "Our last festival was before the war. I have been excited to participate again."

"You have known this for a while, though," Ivan interjects. "Why are you excited today?"

"Our leader got the score today. We will be practicing more often so we will impress the crowd."

"We have a farm to tend to though!—"

"Get the neighbor's boy to help you. He is far too young to handle their pigs anyhow. You can practice your Estonian more as well." Eduard smiles again. Such a rare smile. He buttons up the freshly ironed shirt and puts on one of his nicer coats along with his work boots. It had rained that day, and the dirt roads were muddy.

* * *

**June 1945**

**Tallinn, ESSR**

The days had come. The train ride was a bit uncomfortable, but Ivan felt fortunate that the choir was in the same cart, singing popular songs together and having a merry time. In addition, his knowledge in the language had grown.

The festival itself had a bit of an upsetting schedule. Several songs were Russian and praised Soviet leaders and models. What Eduard said was true. There must have been at least twenty thousand performers on stage. They sang brilliantly as well.

All of the dances were wonderful too, and the traditional clothes of different areas were spectacular. How does Eduard enjoy it?

He loves it. He kept a smile on his face as he sang along. There is one song where he did not smile.

_Mu isamaa on minu arm,  
kel südant annud ma._

The first part brought silence among the crowd. Everyone ceased their conversations and stared. Ivan stared too. The song felt so different.

_Sull' laulan ma, mu ülem õnn,  
mu õitsev Eestimaa!_

The woman beside Ivan had a hitch in her breath. The woman came here alone. Her eyes were glassy, as they welled up with tears.

_Su valu südames mul keeb,  
su õnn ja rõõm mind rõõmsaks teeb,  
mu isamaa, mu isamaa!_

The performers all looked less happy. Instead, they seemed determined, proud, some even sad. Parts of the crowd sang along. It must have been a popular poem.

The song continued, and it brought a huge applause. It was the best received. After it was complete, the altar of fire lit at the beginning was extinguished. That was the final song.

* * *

Ivan waited at the train for his comrade. He and the choir soon came up and headed in. Eduard had the smell of beer on his breath. There was a hint of lady's perfume on his clothes. "You went out drinking? Had fun without me?"

"It was a quick thing. But how did you like it? The festival." Eduard slurred his words at the end. His Russian was not as neat.

Ivan squints some. "That is not how you treat me. You said you were loyal to me." He stops that conversation. There were in public. Such implications could have them sent away. It is a wonder the Office has yet to question them on their lack of wives. "Uh, it was great. I could not understand the last song too well. Your language is sometimes too literal, or I just did not learn some words."

Eduard sighs out. "It was a beautiful song. I hope we sing it more. I'll tell you more once home." He leans against him. "We can go in the train now."

Ivan sighs and heads in, sitting down as Eduard leans against him to rest. Ivan could not rest. Eduard had lied again. For two years. He was not loyal.


	3. 1947 - You Aren't Loyal

**A/N: So, the last two chapters were tamer, definitely not fitting of the rating I gave. First one was more slight backstory and introduction of a main conflict, the second was more me nerding out over song festivals. This will show why I gave it an adult rating. Also, if anyone is reading this hoping for smut at some point, I don't really write that stuff in stories. I won't try that. Anywho, enjoy.**

**Warnings: Expletive language, violence, blood/gore**

"**You Aren't Loyal"**

**August 1947**

**Outside Narva, ESSR**

* * *

Eduard splashes on another cup of water onto the hot stones of the sauna before leaning back with a soft sigh. His muscles felt a bit tense due to earlier activities in the day, and he wishes he could stay in the bath house for the rest of the day. It is easy to just doze off in the steamy room, but he doesn't want to walk outside during the cool night.

He wishes the bath house and sauna were connected to the house, but this is more than most people have in the country, so he will not whine and moan over it. He reaches over to grab his towel and drape it over his lap and get ready to head back to the house. The blonde turns his head toward the wooden door when he hears Ivan's work boots on the wooden deck outside.

The door slams open, an irate looking Russian glaring down at the other. _"You absolute whore of a man."_ He seethes out before grabbing Eduard's arm and yanking him out of the room, causing the slighter male to gasp out and hurriedly hold onto the towel to at least cover his crotch.

Ivan looks the other over, tilting his neck up then looking at his back. He jabs at a hickey on Eduard's collarbone rather roughly. "Who is the bitch that you fucked, huh!?" He shouts at the other right in his ear.

The Estonian flinches. "W-What? What are you talking about, you mad man!?" he sputters out and tries to move away. The grip on his arm stays firm. It will likely leave a bruise.

Eduard's words only seemed to enrage Ivan more. He raises his other hand and strikes the other across the face, causing the naked male to fall to the ground. "Don't play dumb with me, you slut. I could smell the fucking perfume of the bitch all over your clothes! I could smell your musk too. You just like lying to me, huh!?"

Eduard tries to reply only to let out a pained cry as Ivan roughly kicks at his side before stomping on his face. He chokes out a sob and brings his hands up to cover his face. "Ivan! S-Stop it!" He could feel blood staining his hands, but he could do nothing as Ivan now kicks at the side of his head. His cries soften with each blow before it is just whimpers.

Ivan is not done though. He steps on Eduard's chest and squats down. "Stop being a little bitch and stop lying to me. You like the pain, right? You let your whore scratch you up, make little bruises on your neck. Honestly," he laughs for a moment, "whatever made you think you could hide this shit from me?" One hand rests on Eduard's collar before scratching down and drawing a little blood. This draws a shudder from the smaller body.

"You liked that? Or are you just so much of a whelp that you have already given up? I thought you were a good little soldier." Ivan practically sings out and easily moves Eduard's hand away, holding them in one hand by the wrists. Tears were streaming down the sides of the Estonian's face.

"I'm so… I'm so sorry…Ivan. Please stop this," is all Eduard says before another whine comes out. Ivan smiles as his free hand moves up, his thumb lightly brushing against the man's bloodied and chapped lips. He moves his foot off the other's chest and bends over Eduard, who can't help but close his eyes tightly and let out another whimper.

Ivan watches the other and smiles warmly before kissing him gently. He could taste the blood on his lips. He could feel the struggling breath followed by a whimper. He could even taste some sort of wax, likely the lipstick from whatever woman Eduard was with. Ivan pulls back and leans close to Eduard's right ear and whispers. "You keep lying to me. You aren't loyal. Have you ever been?"

The large Russian sits up some and relishes in the fearful look Eduard gives give before raising a fist and punching the other's jaw. He does so again. And again. And again. He only stops when he feels his hand getting sore. He instead moves his hands around Eduard's thin neck and starts to squeeze lightly.

Eduard coughs out, splotches of blood spraying onto the other man's sleeves and his face some. His hands wrap around Ivan's wrists and try to pull them off, but he hardly has any strength now. His nails dig into his skin as he struggles to take a breath only to hack as blood goes down the wrong pipe. Eduard's hands move away and sprawl out. "F-Fucking do it already… Kill me, bastard," he manages to croak out.

Ivan squeezes harder, his own breath hitching when he feels the faint flutter of Eduard's pulse on his calloused hands. Despite how spiteful Eduard's words were, his face is devoid of hatred. It looks like regret. Ivan squints some and thinks to himself: No, he only regrets being caught.

There is no struggle, except for the body's innate struggle to take in a breath. His body is limp, but his focus is solely on Ivan's face. The pulse gets weaker, and his eyes start to flutter closed.

Ivan lets go.

* * *

The Russian makes sure Eduard's weak body stays sitting up in the small tub, using a brush to scrub off the dirt on his back and clean the scratches and scrapes. This is no good. Eduard is so out of it. The blood in his hair tells him he dealt quite the kick to his head. He would have to tell their superiors that Eduard is ill, or fell down the stairs and must heal. He couldn't do the work of two agents at once on top of taking care of the farm. The neighbor's kid could only help so much.

Eduard weakly reaches one hand up to touch his jaw, hissing some from the pain. "Ivan, I'm sorr—"

"Stop saying that. I didn't kill you. I'm cleaning you up even. Just be quiet and let me finish cleaning you," Ivan snaps out and glares at the dirty water. "Don't make me change my mind."

"…I'm sorry."


	4. 1948 - Cigarette Smoke

**A/N: While writing this, I had serious writer's block. I did not know how to continue this. I had one ide after another, and it was cluttered. In addition, I recently took a trip to Estonia. As such, it has made me reconsider where to take this story as well as its locations. As such, I will be changing their locations as Narva is not a particularly good place to be monitored with how heavy a Russian ethnicity. Anywho, this is going to be more development I guess. A lot shorter than I intended.**

**Warnings: Expletive Language, Implied Sex**

"**Cigarette Smoke"**

**January 1948**

**Outside Narva, ESSR**

* * *

There is a single spark of light in the small, dark bedroom. Ivan tsks and sits up better so his bare back is up against the wood headboard. He tries again and hums out a note as the lighter finally starts up. He brings it up closer and lights the cigarette that is between his bruised lips before setting the lighter aside and taking a long drag and breathing out the smoke as he plucks the cigarette away somewhat. The Russian lets out a deep sigh.

Eduard opens up one of his eyes and turns over in the bed to look at the other. His moving to sit up caused him to wake up some. He notices the faint glow from the cigarette and frowns. "Ivan…" he starts, his voice very telling of his exhaustion after their activities, "…put that out. I've told you many times not to smoke in our room. Do that in the living room or open a window."

Ivan looks back at Eduard and simply scoffs at the request. "How about no? I'm not getting up and dressing again just so I can finish this in a different room. It's fucking cold outside, and I'm not letting the hot air escape because you want to be a whiny bitch."

The Estonian huffs out and looks away. "At least grab an ash tray. I don't want to change the sheets because of you."

Ivan laughs. "I'm not supposed to smoke in here, so why would there be a tray?" He scoots himself down and snakes an arm around the other's naked form. "We already made a mess anyhow. What's another mess if it is going to be cleaned?" He smiles some and kisses at the back of Eduard's neck, moving in closer to nip at his ear.

Eduard could feel his face heat up among other things. A chill runs down his body from the close proximity. A single thought runs through his head: _Why is this wrong if it feels so good?_ Perhaps he was raised wrong himself. He was an only child after all, and he would often help his mother more. He was always told he was so eloquent, that it was something so unique that every woman would wish for him to be their husband.

Yet, here he is now, sharing a bed with someone he once saw as the enemy. A man he sees as a lover. Someone he cares for regardless of the fights. Perhaps he is simply more feminine, hence why they are together. He is the woman in the relationship. Perhaps it is for the best. Ivan can be so rough, and a woman would break if there was any disagreement. At least he can take the hits better. But, it is not right to hit the one you love. Maybe it happens because they are men.

"Ed, you're shivering so much. You don't feel cold." Ivan puts out the cigarette on the dresser on his side before wrapping both of his arms around the slighter male to hold him close and spoon him. "Are you thinking about the front?" A hand rubs at Eduard's side. "Are you thinking of that fight?"

Eduard jolts some from the touch. It is not painful, but it still reminds him of the pain occasionally. He didn't fully register Ivan's words fully until a moment after. He was deep in his thoughts. "What? No! I mean— yes, I kind of was. It's just…" He turns over so he can face Ivan, placing a hand on his jaw. "This… This is so wrong. Being together. We are both men, and it is unnatural. So why do we continue this? We keep fighting and arguing… It hurts, knowing that we are truly sick."

Ivan's tired eyes scan over the other's features carefully. "We are sick, but it is lovesickness, right?" he replies softly as he moves his own hand back up to put over Eduard's and hold it gently. "It can be wrong to everyone, but I feel nothing wrong. If it is wrong, how come we can fit so perfectly? No woman could fit to me like you. And no relationship is truly perfect. We fight. It gets bad, but what else would we expect? We have seen and brought death. We aren't some innocent lovers. We aren't a fairytale couple."

Eduard presses close and sighs out. "Ivan, you know what I mean. They could catch us. It is already so suspicious…" He buries his face into the other's neck. "You should shave," he rambles out upon feeling the stubble along the other's jaw.

"Gotta keep my face warm for the cold months." Ivan replies and kisses him gently. "I don't feel too tired now. If you are having doubts, I can show you again how nicely we fit." He sits up and shudders for a moment from the cool air in the room.

Eduard watches the other and nods as he starts things off with another simple kiss. He lets his concerns wash away and allows Ivan to take control again for the rest of the night, just the faintest smell of cigarette smoke wafting through the chilly bedroom.


End file.
